


Unspeakably Merry

by LadyBlack3



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:42:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21673897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBlack3/pseuds/LadyBlack3
Summary: Hermione returns home just in time for Christmas from her latest research trip as an Unspeakable. This will be their first every Christmas, just the two of them. No Weasleys, no friends, not other family. Will they manage to get into the Christmas spirit? She thought they could, until Harry's team leader dies an unexpected death, leaving him to investigate it with the help from the Department of Mysteries.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 7
Kudos: 113
Collections: Harmony Advent Collection 2019





	Unspeakably Merry

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Harmony Advent Collection 2019, organised by the lovely admins of Harmony & Co group.
> 
> It has previously come to my attention that some readers get very offended by Weasley bashing. This is a warning that this story contains some mild Weasley bashing, introduced purposefully for the plot and character development of the main characters.
> 
> This is my first attempt at writing a Harmony story instead of just reading them, let me know your thoughts!

**24th December 2001**

She sighed tiredly, leaning against the closed door of her crammed office. She was finally back home, just in time for Christmas, and yet all she wanted to do was curl up and not have to face it this year. The loneliness that has been growing inside her chest ever since she left for her research trip in Norway a month ago was eating at her, and she knew that unlike the previous years, this time it would be a very quiet time. Deciding not to succumb to her melancholy, she pushed away from the door and shrugged out of her grey cloak, glad to be hanging it up for the next three weeks of yuletide peace. Hermione’s work as an Unspeakable was everything she thought it would be, and never dreamed of at the same time. And it all began with that summons during her last year at Hogwarts.

The school was back in order, repaired with the aid of the ancient castle’s magic just in time for September 1998, and while the student population was much smaller than the previous years, it was still a sanctuary and home to many of them. The class of those returning for their 7th year was small enough for them to have a separate floor with private rooms, the previous house rivalry long gone in the wake of the war. That first post-war year was as Hermione imagined her schooling would have been without the threat of Voldemort in their world. For once, she could study to her heart’s desire and really focus on her revision and extra reading as they all recovered from the fighting.

A part of her however felt distant and bored more than anything else. Nearly twenty years old due to her use of time-turner, she was older than all of her peers, not just in age but more than anything in mind. As much she appreciated the offer of the mind healer the school hired to help with the post-traumatic stress many of them still suffered, there was nothing to be done for her nightmares of wicked cackling, excruciating pain and helplessness. But she was slowly getting better as the months passed, the boredom becoming part of her everyday life by this point. Compared to the trauma of the past months, N.E.W.T.s seemed almost too easy as she mechanically got through each of the examination days before trying to enjoy her last week at Hogwarts with access to the magnificent library.

_It was while she was reading on a blanket by the lake, enjoying the warm rays of the sun that a shadow fell across her pages._

_“Uhm miss….,” a hesitant voice got her attention._

_Hermione made sure to smile and appear approachable as she looked at one of the Gryffindor first years. “Hello, how can I help you?” she asked kindly._

_Seeing he was not going to get his head bitten off by the famous heroine, the boy seemed to relax a bit. “Professor McGonnagal sent me to ask you to come to her office,”he relayed the message, and bolted back toward the castle the moment she nodded her thanks._

_It wasn’t just McGonnagal that greeted her by the gargoyle however. A tall figure in a grey cloak stood beside her silently, the hood pulled up over their head, a cloaking charm covering all of their features. It was like looking into a deep well, nothing but pitch black darkness._

_“Miss Granger, if you would please follow us. Stone of Scone,” Minerva told the gargoyle which gladly stepped aside and they all headed up to the Headmistress’ office in silence._

_The wise witch motioned for her to take a seat as she took her chair at the large desk. “I appreciate you joining us and apologise for the summons. I am sure you are enjoying your free time now that your N.E.W.T.s are completed,” Minerva offered kindly. “How did you find the examinations?” she asked, appearing to ignore the person standing beside her desk._

_Hermione’s gaze flicked to the cloaked person but guessed all would become clear in good time so she turned back to the Headmistress. “I found them acceptable and look forward to receiving my results,” she responded, not really sure what to say. If someone had asked her about the O.W.L.s a few years back, she would have gushed about some of the questions, the challenge they posed and the studying schedule that helped her through them. The truth was that the N.E.W.T.s were hardly inspiring after everything they faces on the run, and didn’t pose much of a challenge at all._

_Before Minerva could respond, their cloaked guest answered instead. “Of course the examinations hardly compare to the creative problem solving and challenges you faced last year. It is for that reason you are dubbed the brightest witch of your age,” the observation spoken in a calm baritone of someone clearly used to being in charge._

_‘A man, of course… about six foot three and able to read my thoughts. I don’t appreciate my thoughts being listened in on, especially when I’m too tired to hold my occlumency shields up for too long.’ she directed her mental monologue at the man unflinchingly, her brow rising to make a point._

_“Touché,” the mystery guest acknowledged their silent communication, much to the concern of the Headmistress. “Would it be possible to speak to Miss Granger alone, Headmistress?” he asked._

_Minerva looked at her silently for a moment, as if to check if Hermione was comfortable enough to be left alone with him. Hermione nodded minutely and watched the elderly witch leave through a side door to her quarters to give them privacy._

_“You are likely wondering why I am here, and you would be correct. This form of recruitment disregards our standard procedure,” he admitted with no hesitation. “I am aware that you must be already receiving offers of employment and further study. It is my intention to add another offer for your consideration,” he said bluntly._

_“You want me to come work for the Department of Mysteries?” she asked, having recognised the grey cloak Unspeakables were known for._

_The hood bobbed with a curt nod. “As you may understand, I cannot discuss all that you would be required to do, but I understand that you have some experience with our department already,” he referred to the Battle of the Department of Mysteries a few years back.“What I can offer you, were you to decide to undergo our evaluation process, is access to extended learning, and the opportunity to contribute to work that will inform centuries of wizarding discord and life of the magical community.”_

_Hermione took his words in, intrigued by the offer of such learning. Research was her forte and she did intend to further her knowledge. What if she could learn for a living, was that not the proverbial dream come true? Her inner sceptic however reared her stubborn head._

_“I wouldn’t like to make any decisions without further consideration,” she suggested._

_The hood bobbed once again. “I will expect your response in two days’ time. If you choose to undergo the evaluation, I will arrange for a portkey for you within 24 hours,” he stepped forward and offered her a coin. “Heads to accept, tails to decline. I believe you already know the spell?” he asked, his tone carrying something akin to amusement._

_Hermione looked at it in surprise before taking it from his large, warm palm. It was an adapted version of her DA coin patent. She could only nod in acceptance before the man glided out of the room without another word. As she looked at the coin in her hand, Hermione yet had no idea the path her choice would take her down._

The mystery Unspeakable turned out to be the Head of the research cell of the Department of Mysteries, codenamed Hades. He headhunted her personally based on her resume and previous experience, and once she passed the evaluation with flying colours, put a choice before her. Multiple masteries, research projects for the Time and Death room, and the new wing of the department dedicated to understanding the fibre of magic itself. Her choice was simple, dedicate her life to the cause, of walk away with her memory altered and non-the-wiser so she could take on another of the ten other offers she had. She did not hesitate. 

Two and a half years later, she was working on her second mastery, this time in runes and warding magic, and her extensive research into the old Nordic wards was already promising for her thesis. 

Her head was pounding from the international portkey and intensive runic formula editing that very morning. She flicked her wand to tidy the room, having left it in a hurry with several folders strewn on her desk. Once all her current findings were locked in the top drawer, she grabbed her bulging notebook and the gifts she brought with her, and made sure her simple dress was in order before stepping into the left corner of the room, the only spot that would allow her to apparate home.

She landed near-silently in the hallway of Grimmauld place, wondering whether the house was still deserted. To her delight however the door to the kitchen swung open and Harry was hurrying through it, towel still in hand from where he wiped them.

“Hermione! You’re back,” he smiled widely and pulled her into a bear hug, breathing in her familiar scent of oranges and earl grey.

She threw her arms around him with a chuckle and squeezed him just as tightly. “Sorry it took so long, I got held up with consultancy meetings,” she offered the cover story for her real work, sadly unable to share her real employment even with Harry. 

“I’m just glad to have you back. Chicken is nearly ready, I’m just putting some rosemary salt on the parsnips. You hungry?” he asked, leading her to the deliciously-smelling kitchen.

“Starved actually,” she smiled and set her bag down so she could help.

“Did you just get back?” he asked as he began grinding some fresh rosemary with sea salt in a mortar. 

“Just dropped off some of my notes at the ministry before coming home. I’ll miss the snow in Europe but I missed London more,” she admitted sheepishly, elbowing him as he flashed her a cheeky grin. “I’m also very proud of you, I heard you’ve been nominated for Sexiest Wizard of the year,” she shot back, seeing his grin morph into a grimace. 

It was a long-running joke between them, the Witch Weekly team forever putting him up for some sort of Award, be it the Sexiest Wizard, the Hero of the Year or the Perfect Date. Merlin knew how they came up with the last one as Harry most certainly did not date, especially after his break up with Ginny. ]

“I hope they’ll miraculously decide that I can’t win the award four years in a row….” He grumbled and chopped the parsnips a bit more grudgingly than the vegetables perhaps deserved.

“At least you’re not getting roasted by Skeeter for actually being faithful,” she pointed out with a shrug. Harry looked at her worriedly but she waved him off and instead summoned a couple of beers from the fridge. “It’s fine, just calling it what it is.”

Having to go through a rough break up was something she wouldn’t wish on anyone. Being forced to go through a very public break up with your childhood sweetheart and best friend was a whole other experience altogether.

They tried to date once the battle was won and the dead were buried. Hermione stood by Ron through his grief and really tried her best to be a good girlfriend. But when she decided to head back to school while Ron accepted the offer to go straight into the training with the Cannons, he considered it a waste of time and struggled to understand her choice. But they stayed in touch, he would visit occasionally while she was at Hogwarts and tell her about how the training was going. It became apparent to her that he was hoping they would settle down together once she got back from Hogwarts. Instead she chose to remain living at Grimmauld place with Harry, and her new job and first mastery kept her busier than ever. This was another disappointment to Ron as he wanted her to move in with him into his new flat before he concluded the season. For some reason, a part of her was still hesitant, as if she was not really sure whether it was right for her. Instead she decided to give it time and see how their relationship progressed. Things finally came to a head though when Hermione tried to surprise Ron when she returned from a research trip earlier than expected that November. Not only was he not in training that day, but she found him instead in bed in flagranti with a groupie. What hurt more than the cheating and betrayal was that Ron blamed her for being too busy and too workaholic to be a good girlfriend. As if it was her fault that he was in this situation and she pushed him into doing this. She knew they were having trouble and their relationship was coming to a natural end, but she had hoped they could at least salvage their many years of friendship. Instead their messy break up was captured on the front pages of the Prophet for weeks because Ron’s groupie gave an in-depth interview, and the whole Weasley family pretty much turned their back on her, naturally siding with Ron.

Harry nodded. “I’m still sorry it took so long for me to choose you over Ron,” he admitted.

Hermione poured them a glass of wine each. “Really, there’s no need. I wouldn’t be a good friend to you if I made you choose. It just means that this Christmas will be a bit different for both of us,” she offered as he made sure everything was roasted to perfection before the dishes began levitating to the table.

Caught between his two friends, Harry found it tough. On one hand he supported Hermione and was angry at Ron for treating her as he did. On the other, the Weasleys were the only family he had, and he was still dating Ginny at that point, who was none-too-fond of Hermione because she was living with Harry. For some reason she always saw Hermione as a threat. Being Harry’s best friend though, Hermione never tried to make him choose, encouraging him to keep that bond with the Weasleys if that is what he wanted. Instead, she spent the Christmas and New Years of ’99 and ’00 partying it up with her friends in Paris and Geneva, making sure she had plenty of company and good fun over the holiday period to fill the void left by the parents who didn’t remember her, and the family that abandoned her. This year though, it was just Harry and herself, and she had a feeling it would be a different milestone in their friendship.

Harry could see where her thoughts were heading. “I know the last time we spent Christmas alone together was on the run. I think this year will be more peaceful. Would you come with me to visit them again though? I haven’t been since,” he admitted. 

She reached for his hand and squeezed it gently. “Of course I’ll come with you. We’ll get them a proper wreath this time, not just a transfigured one,” she promised.

Harry squeezed her hand gratefully before they tucked in. “I’ve finally raised the wards and closed them to all Weasley family members. I had another visit a couple of weeks ago,” he admitted. 

“Oh Harry why didn’t you say so in your last letter?” she asked with a frown.

“I didn’t want to worry you. She came through the floo, asking whether I still insisted on making bad choices,” he drawled, clearly unamused by his ex’s behaviour. 

Ginny Weasley had always been stubborn, passionate, courageous, and strong-willed. She also had a jealous streak and a sense of self that only grew after the war. They used to be friends at one point but Hermione always suspected Ginny thought the rumours about Harry and herself must be somehow true. The truth of the matters was that while Harry recovered, finished his N.E.W.T.s while training to become an Auror and adjusted to living with survivor’s guilt post-war, all Ginny wanted to do was ‘the normal things’. Dinners in good restaurants, quidditch games, cinema, going out, being seen in public, it was something she wanted to enjoy. Perhaps that was her way of coping with Fred’s passing, Hermione didn’t judge her either way. She could however see that this kind of public life was not suitable for Harry, so she tried to be helpful and made sure their nights in at Grimmauld helped him recharge. And for some reason it remained a point of contention. Their close friendship creating more arguments between Harry and Ginny, and the continuous way the redhead attempted to drive a wedge between them was taking its toll. It was just this past spring that Ginny made her final mistake. 

_Hermione came in from the downpour, shaking off her raincoat and shivering with slight cold from the sudden spring storm that caught her on the way home._

_“Hey you,” Harry greeted her as she came into the kitchen, and reached for an extra cup to make her tea as well._

_“Hey, I went past Valerie’s on my errands and her wife started baking some cakes for the display next to the ice cream. I got the black forest slice and some fresh scones, we can share with the tea,” she suggested, showing him the luscious looking baked goods._

_Harry grinned at the scones. “I think that one has my name on it,” he went to snag some of the clotted cream from the edge of it, laughing when Hermione slapped his hand and moved the box out of reach to plate up. She knew him too well._

_“You should know better,” she tutted but couldn’t help the smile tugging on her lips._

_“I should. Ginny loves black forest gateau if you don’t mind?” he asked._

_Hermione looked up from her plating. “Ginny’s here? I’ll just…grab my scone and leave you to it then,” she suggested though her smile was forced this time. The redhead has been so antagonistic towards her lately, she would rather avoid another confrontation._

_Harry sighed and leaned his hip against the counter as he turned to look at her. “I know the two of you don’t get along well but I promise we’ll be out of the way and won’t disturb you,” he suggested, hoping to make Hermione comfortable despite the intrusion to their home._

_“Will we now?” the question came from the doorway where Ginny had just entered the room. The change in the atmosphere was instantly palpable, and Hermione silently took her mug and plate, ready head off. “I don’t see why we should tiptoe around anyone. This is your house, Harry.”_

_“And it’s Hermione’s home as well, Gin. We already discussed this. I think it’s only respectful to accommodate each other,” he replied, frown firmly set between his brows._

_“Well why can’t we get some respect and have the space to ourselves? It’s like you don’t even want us to have the quality time together! All you’ve been doing lately is spending time with her,” Ginny motioned sharply at Hermione who was trying to duck past her, her hand hitting the small plate in her hand and sending the scone to the floor._

_Furious, Hermione tried to stamp down on her emotions and cast the spell to clean up the mess, ready to get out of there without a word to the redhead._

_“That’s enough Ginny,” Harry warned her, looking apologetically at his friend._

_“No, it’s not! It’s never enough time spent with me and always talking about her, or staying in with her. You can’t have it both ways Harry. You either choose her or me, and that’s final,” Ginny stated firmly and looked at the young man before her with hard eyes._

_Hermione paused by the door at the last words, her head slowly turning to look at her best friend. They’ve been through so much together, but as he had shown her over the past few months, Harry remained conflicted and she feared that is push came to shove, he would stick with his adoptive family over her. Defeated and tired by the argument, she offered Harry a small watery smile and turned away to escape before she could cry in front of the redhead._

_“Fine then. I guess you should be leaving then. Hermione? I think there’s another scone here we can share, would you like to have some tea?” Harry asked more calmly that she had heard him talk in months._

_She froze mid-step, slowly turning around to look back at him. He didn’t just tell Ginny that she was not his first choice, did he?_

_“I knew it! It’s true then, you would choose her rather than me and my family. After everything we’ve done for you. So ungrateful!” Ginny tossed in his face before grabbing her handbag and pushing past Hermione and out of the room. “You’ll regret this! You’ll come to your senses!” she shouted towards the kitchen before the sound of the floo could be heard._

_A long silent moment followed her hasty exit, as Hermione kept looking at him in disbelief. Harry pointed the spoon in his hand at her. “See that face, right there, is the reason why I made that choice,” he explained before turning back around to finish his tea, pouring the one intended for Ginny into the sink now that it was no longer needed._

_“Harry, are you sure about this? I understand if you have to choose her, the Weasleys-“_

_“Have been kind to me in the past but I don’t think I’m part of the family as much as I thought I would be. And they haven’t been kind to you at all. I just wish I had stood up for you more,” he finished and sat down at the table, patting the place beside him for her to join him._

_She made her wooden legs move and sat down, looking at him hesitantly. “Are you really sure?”_

_Harry’s gaze snapped to meet hers, his vivid green eyes sharp and focused in their intensity. “More sure than anything right now. For you to believe so little in our friendship that you would let me choose Ginny over you tells me that I’ve been an idiot. It’s always been the two of us, through every challenge, every year, no matter what. Not once did you abandon me, and as much as I hate to be pushed into a choice, I now realise that this is the best choice I can make. You are my best friend and it wasn’t right how they treated you. So,” he took a sip from his tea and summoned the white box and a knife to cut the remaining scone, “let’s just let it go and have some cake. You still haven’t told me about the new book you got yesterday. I know you’re bursting to, out with it,” he grinned._

_As they sat in that kitchen and ate the scone she brought home, Hermione allowed the part of herself that always loved Harry more than a friend to blossom just a bit further._

“I can see you overthinking this again. I’ve made my choice months ago, I don’t know why she keeps coming back,” he sighed and ran a hand through his already wild hair.

Hermione shrugged. “Maybe she still loves you and wants you back. I wouldn’t blame you if you think she may be your future, you know,” she offered though wondered whether he would be happy with the redhead.

Harry’s eyes lifted from his plate, focusing their intense gaze on her again. “There would be no happiness between us. I’ve made my choice, and I will always choose you Hermione,” he said simply but so earnestly she wanted to reach out for him.

The moment was disrupted by a familiar jaguar patrons jumping into the room and landing on the table before opening its muzzle to relay the message. “Deputy-lead Potter, your presence is required at the Ministry. Report to my office immediately.”

Harry was already working on summoning his battle gear and pulling on his doublet before the message even finished. “I’m sorry I can’t stay,” he said regretfully, looking at the cooling meal on the table.

Hermione waved him off. “Go, I’ll probably be still up when you come back,” she waved him off and watched as he apparated on the spot through the wards to the nearest Ministry port. 

Barely a minute passed while she packed up the leftovers and cleaned up the kitchen before the necklace on her throat warmed warningly, sending a summons of her own. She gently rubbed the gold triquetra resting against her breastbone, an uneasy feeling settling in her chest. If they were both being summoned like this, one after another, it could only mean something sinister was brewing.

She apparated to the order of her office before pulling on the grey cloak that would hide her identity and headed down the corridor to a small square chamber. The walls were smooth and tiled, seemingly a dead end. She looked down at her feet and took two steps forward and one to the left before drawing her rune, Hagalaz, onto the tile right before her heart. 

She waited patiently as the rune shone brightly before being absorbed and the tiles shifted momentarily before disappearing, a doorway suddenly appearing before her.

“Come in,” the words washed over her as she stepped through, the wall firming up behind her as she stood before Hades’ desk.

His cloak was in place, large hands moving in a smooth pattern over a wooden box as he raised a ward around it to keep it locked and secured. Hermione watched in silence, waiting patiently until he finished his work, sensing the hum of the small wards around the box. 

Sensing her curiosity, Hades pushed the box towards her. “Go ahead, I know you want to, Hacate,” she could hear amusement in his tone, though couldn’t detect it any other way as his features were completely covered.

She stepped closer to the desk and felt around the wards he raised to keep her out of the box. She caressed the ward surface, getting a feel for the magic understanding the purpose of it. She felt the protective ward, and on top of it, layered loosely and closely to each other was a particular ward she had before encountered in her research into the old pureblood family magic.A muggleborn repellant ward. She gently pushed with her magic and began drawing runes with her wand over the sides and the lid, carefully pulling the wards apart until they disintegrated and the box was left for her to open.If she were able to see beneath her director’s hood, his pride in her skill would be apparent.

“I see your thesis research is going well. Tonight however you will have to become operational.”

Hermione’s head whipped up form where she was examining the box. So far she had only done research but took no part in active investigation work. Only a small portion of her colleagues were operational or assisted the DMLE with their investigations. This would be her first. And then it dawned on her why. “Something happened…at DMLE. Harry was called in,” she ventured, wondering whether her director would acknowledge her words.

No one else in the department knew who she was, they all referred to each other with their codenamesand wore their cloaks, but Hades knew since he was the one to recruit her. 

His hood bobbed slightly in acknowledgement. “It is the reason I selected you for this particular mission. Mr Potter will require a particular researcher for his mission, but also someone understanding of the implications of this evening on his work and well-being,” he summarised neatly.

Hermione chewed on her lip in contemplation, not that he could see it through the hood. “He’ll know it’s me. It won’t take him long to figure it out,” she voiced her main worry. 

“That is acceptable under the circumstances. When a new head of the hit wizard team is selected, they have a contact in our department assigned for cases that surpass their knowledge and geographical jurisdiction,” he explained without voicing the main event. 

Harry was to become the new lead of the hit wizard team that dealt with the most severe crimes and homicides received by the Aurors. That meant something must have happened tonight to his previous head, Rhys Llewelyn. Not only would Harry be mourning his mentor, but likely investigating his death if it proved to be so sinister that Hermione’s department was being called in.Hades allowed her a few moments to process before clearing his throat.

“We believe foul play was involved with the wards around the villa but no one I spoke to has seen anything like it. For that reason, we’ve chosen to send you in. Solving this would certainly warrant your mastery in the subject,” he pointed out.

She set the puzzle box down and nodded. “I’ll do what I can.” She waited for Hades to lead the way through the corridor towards the lifts and up onto the second floor to the DMLE, casting a slight masking charm on her voice to hopefully not give away her identity straight away. 

They entered the office of the Head Auror, Gawain Robards, who was sitting behind his desk with a solemn expression, watching the young man before him. Hermione had to force herself to stand still beside Hades, despite her instinct to walk over to Harry and pull him into a tight hug. His expression was tight and eyes bloodshot, likely from pushing away his need to grieve, his shoulders slightly slumped in his seat.

Robards inclined his head to the new arrivals in greeting. “I assume you will be taking over the investigation?” he asked. 

Hermione could see Harry’s knuckles tighten and turn nearly white with the effort to not respond to the suggestion. Before she could respond, Hades took the lead. “Due to the nature of the magical element in the death of your colleague, our department has to get involved. Unspeakable Hecate will be assisting the lead from your department, as her research specialisation lies in runic and warding magic,” he motioned towards Hermione who stepped forward and nodded her head in greeting. 

“Who will I be working with?” she asked, glad the charm on her voice made it slightly deeper and huskier. 

“Mr Potter. He will be taking over the position as his team’s lead,” Robards confirmed her suspicion as Harry stood and offered her his hand. 

She accepted it in a firm handshake. “I wish we were meeting under more pleasant circumstances, Mr Potter,” she allowed herself to say in a professional but honest tone. 

He nodded in thanks for her words before picking up the file from Robards’ desk. “If that is all, we need to investigate the crime scene, sir,” the words coming out quiet but firm.

Hades turned and left without another word now that his part was done, as was his usual fashion, and Robards merely shared a quick look with Harry before nodding for them to go ahead.

Following after her dearest friend was difficult, especially seeing the tense line of his shoulders while unable to help. He led her to his office, which was of course familiar to her but she nonetheless closed the door and waited for him to invite her to sit at his desk. Harry however motioned her over as he opened the folder and pulled out the photographs. 

“Our team leader, Rhys Llewelyn, was called to assist at a security disturbance at a high ranking Ministry official’s home earlier this evening. He had the clearance for entry, and the wards have previously been set for him as the lead of their security. This system worked perfectly fine since May until tonight. When Rhys apparated to the wards and tried to gain entry, something went wrong with the wards,” he pointed to the last photograph that captured what was left of the once solid frame of a man in dark robes - skin and bones curled on themselves, hollow eyes looking into the lens of the magical camera. 

She had never seen anything like it. “Whose wards are they?” she asked, stepping back to look at all of the photographs in sequence. 

Harry contemplated whether he should tell her but gathered she was asking for a reason.“Nott family wards on their Cambridgeshire mansion. Theodore Nott took over the family estate after his father was give the kiss. He now holds three seats in the Wizengamot thanks to his marriage to Pansy Nott, nee Parkinson,” he explained. 

“Any why did Mr. Nott have assigned security like this? Especially involving the head of your team?” she asked as if she were ignorant of these things. Truth was, Harry had through a fit when their already limited resources were assigned to add security to Kingsley’s key advisors - Theo Nott, Carlisle Willoughby, and Arthur Weasley. 

“As I said, he is a high ranking official in trust with the Minister for Magic,” Harry responded flatly and she could sense his irritation with her.

He most likely needed to get out and see the crime scene to investigate. “I must see the wards, do you have the coordinates?” she asked. 

Harry shook his head. “I will have to take you via side-along apparition, as I have clearance to be there. We need to head up to the apparition point,” he put the photos away and held the door open for her before marching towards the lifts. When he was too busy with the lift handles now that the operator was gone, she muttered a few quick charms to keep her hood in place and keep up the charm on her voice box to keep her voice discoloured. She hated side-along and only hoped the landing would be smooth, for both their sakes.

* * *

They landed with a loud crack on the edge of the wards and Hermione, though she was feeling dizzy, instinctively pulled Harry back a step. He steadied her with a hold on her elbow, his callused fingers digging into her arm to keep her steady. 

“Thank you,” she acknowledged and leaned forward to take a sniff before taking another step back. 

He looked at her in confusion. “What-“

“The wards, I can feel them. They are set to exterminate any threat to the inhabitants,” she explained as she straightened up and took out her wand.

“Did they identify you as a threat?” Harry asked with a frown, his fingers twitching by his holster. 

Hermione nodded. “Yes, I’m a muggleborn. Technically I pose a threat to the blood purity of this household,” she said in a completely flat, mater-of-fact tone.

Harry just stared at her speechlessly for a few seconds before pulling himself together. “Rhys was the first muggle born head of the hit wizard team-

“Which means that if these wards were up when he apparated into them, he would have been expelled in the least, if not eliminated as a threat in the manner that we saw in the photographs,” she confirmed, pausing momentarily when she realised she did the same thing to him as she did when she was herself with him. They knew each other so well, finishing the occasional sentence for the other was a long present habit for them.

Harry seemed to be thankfully distracted by the crime scene and nodded, stepping forward, trying to get a sense for them. He seemed to have a thought but didn’t look like he felt comfortable voicing it. 

“They feel a bit warm to you as well?” she asked, hoping it would encourage him. Her perception of the wards would of course be tainted by the alarm belles ringing in her magical core.

Harry turned to look at her and contemplated her for a moment before making up his mind and nodding once again. “Like…tingly but not in an ominous way. Just like magic I’m not very familiar with..” he mused almost to himself.

Hermione nodded. “Runic warding magic is unlike any magic you will ever encounter, it is old and yet it is new. Protective and hostile all at once, a true oxymoron,” she explained before pulling out a small pocket knife from her robes and cutting into her palm swiftly, without much of a wince. 

She painted the fingertips of her forefingers and middle fingers in her blood and started drawing a revealing sigil in the air before her. The pattern was complicated and precise to reveal the hidden fabric of the wards, the magical strings of the layered enchantments.The wards shimmered and pulsed before the sigil shone brightly for a moment and a complicated knitted pattern of magical cords appeared before her, almost like looking at one of her knitting patterns.

She dropped her hands and stepped closer now that it was safer to do so, the sigil drawn in blood and her magic keeping up a slight barrier from the effects of the wards. She reached up towards the fine pattern and gently strummed the magical fabric, hissing when it burned her fingers slightly as she pulled one of the strands out of the way. 

Harry was beside her in an instant, looking awed and apprehensive at the same time. “Do you…should I maybe touch the wards instead? Is that what you’re doing?” he asked, not quite sure what he was looking at. Merlin he wished Hermione was here with him.Little did he know she was closer than he thought.

Hermione shook her head, her hood bobbing. “It would be unsafe for you to do so without training. Just make sure I don’t fall into the wards in case I have magical fatigue,” she instructed and began pulling on the strings, one by one, taking her time to study the layers.

The newer wards on top were mostly simple - protection, anti-apparition, magical barrier… Once she gotto the older wards underneath, she began to understand the scale fo what they were dealing with here.Old blood wards were raised as the foundation, probably with runic stones buried around the perimeter for centuries. Old, deep, and powerful, these blood wards have been not only getting stronger but more volatile. They were festering under the layers upon layers of new enchantments without the continual upkeep of the base layer. That was the trouble with blood wards you see, they demanded blood to sustain them, year after year.Instead, the intention ward that was set atop of it to keep all those meaning ill will to the family out of the perimeter began to fester as well and became volatile, hence the shift to perceive muggle borns as hostile and attacking with the curse of the blood. The condition of Llewelyn’s body made perfect sense now. He was skin and bones because all the ‘dirty blood’ has been extinguished out of him to no longer be a threat to the pure blood of the house of Nott.

She took a small step back and cast a scourgify on her hands to clean the blood off until the sigil waned and she was released from its exhausting magic. She wobbled a bit on the spot, glad when Harry took her elbow and helped her sit down, clearly seeing her wobble. 

“What did you learn?” he asked softly but almost impatiently as he crouched beside her to keep on her level. 

“It wasn’t murder,” she delivered the most important words first, seeing him sag slightly. No murder, no perp, no revenge. All that would be left was the grief. She knew that feeling well but there was nothing she could do for him to make this bit feel better. "This is a case of Head of House duties neglect," she explained, seeing he was trying to piece things together what they knew so far and what he watched her do. 

“What does that mean?” he asked, 

“These are blood wards, they are sustained through the blood of the family that raised them and resides in the Manor. But merely residing in the wards is not enough to feed them. A small gift of blood from the head of house or someone accepted by the family magic, a spouse for example, would be able to sustain the wards just as well. It keeps them functioning the way they are supposed to, layered with all the other wards and protective charms. In this case, the long neglect of the blood wards made them unstable, poisoned and rotting like a wound left without cleaning and tending. They de-stabilised the rest of the wards and caused them to react adversely to muggleborns," she explained, taking a fortifying breath as she accepted his hand and let him pull her up. 

"Are you saying this could have been prevented?" he asked dangerously quietly. 

She couldn't be dishonest about this. “Yes."

Harry contemplated her words for a long moment, trying to come to terms with the pointless death of his mentor. She gave him some time, rummaging in her small pocket pack that had extensible charms on it, not dissimilar to the one she used during the war. She withdrew an ornate athame and a small copper bowl. If they were to prevent any further damage, they would have to re-set the wards. 

"Can you repair the wards?" he asked, noticing the tools. 

"No, but I can help Mr Nott repair his wards," she clarified. "As I'm prevented from entering, would you mind fetching the Lord of the Manor?" she asked. 

Harry shook his head. "I don't think it wise for me to step through the intention wards at the moment," he said in a measured tone before summoning his bright stag patronus and recorded a quick message, summoning Theo to the wards. 

They waited only about ten minutes before Theo apparated to the edge of the wards, his wizarding robes off, revealing a simple suit underneath. “You wish to speak to me?” he asked without any proper greeting.

Hermione gritted her teeth silently. She remembered the slytherin as a quiet boy, tall and lanky, unexceptional and very ordinary-looking. The man before her was an older version of the schoolyard bully that used to hang out with Malfoy. Still tall, less lanky and more lean, his features no longer stretched into a smirk but rather impassive and cold.

Harry was clearly used to dealing with him as he took the lead. “We discovered that the cause of death sustained by my colleague Mr Llewelyn are your family blood ward. The neglect to sustain the wards led to their corruption and elimination of Mr Llewelyn,” he summarised, seeing the genuine surprise slipping through the man’s mask of indifference.“To prevent further injury or death to your visitors, my colleague will assist you in resetting the wards,” he added and nodded to the Unspeakable before him to proceed.

Hermione took a cautious step towards the edge of the wards and drew her athame and bowl. “In order to replenish the wards and repair the damage that has been done, a gift of blood from the Head of the Family is essential at this stage. Please extend your wrist beyond the wards for me to collect some of your blood. Once you have enough blood in the bowl, I will ask you to stand above the warding rune stone to our right and pour the blood over it as you offer your essence to sustain the wards. It will take a few moments for them to purge and reset to a healthy state. Do you understand the process?” she asked.

Theo hesitated, clearly not happy with the blood magic involved but in lieu of a verbal response began unbuttoning the cuff of his shirt, which he then folded and rolled up to his elbow. He stepped close enough to the wards to allow him to extend most of his forearm beyond the magical barrier, his clean, pale skin shining in the soft moonlight.

Hermione didn’t waste any time and nicked the prominent vein with the ritual athame as she hummed a soft chant while the bowl collected the spilling life essence. The hot, thick blood seemed to almost glow inside the copper bowl for a moment before settling into an even pool. She quickly waved her hand over the wound with a wandless, silent healing spell and watched the wound close. Theo was now staring at her with a look of surprise and alight awe as she handed over the bowl.

“Take three steps to your right,” she next instructed, moving as his mirror to stand before the powerful warding stone sensed by her magic.

Theo held the bowl calmly and waited for his next instructions. Hermione took a step back form the wards to keep a safe distance. “Once you’re ready, start very slowly pouring the blood over the place where the stone is buried, all the while chanting the phrase 'Sanguinem meum, praesidium meum’. Slowly, with clear enunciation,” she guided him clearly to make sure he got it right. “You will feel a tug on your magical core. This is a natural occurrence and will stop soon. The wards will only draw on your magic through the blood you are offering to resettle themselves,” she added, anticipating that would be quite an uncomfortable part for the Nott Head of House. 

Theo took a deep breath and nodded once to let hew know he understood the instructions before steadying his grip on the bowl. he gently started leaning it over the spot she indicated and began chanting. “sanguinem meum, praesidium meum….sanguinem meum, praesidium meum…”

Hermione felt a shiver run down her spine at the pulse of magic from the blood wards, the sacrifice being received readily after many years of neglect. She watched closely as Theo chanted until the bowl was empty, the last of his words coming out a bit breathy die to the strain on his magic. But just as quickly as it began, the ritual was over and the wards when brightly, snapping into place firmly once they released their hold on Theo’s magic. His shoulders sagged slightly from the strain of the spell, his breathing somewhat laboured.

“Is it done?” he asked as Hermione cast the necessary diagnostic charms on the wards.

She could feel the strong, pulsing blood ward beneath the layers of other enchantments and wards, and nodded in confirmation. “The wards have been re-set but I would recommend hiring a ward specialist to do a full diagnostic check and discuss renewing or adding additional protection layers,” she suggested. “You will need to do this ritual at least every 5 years in order to sustain the wards, if not every year, depending on the number of people living in your manner. The great number of inhabitants, the stronger the wards need to be and the more they will demand.”

Theo nodded his thanks. “I appreciate your assistance,” was all he said before nodding to them both and disapparating. 

Hermione swayed on her feet as a bout of dizziness hit once more, her magical exhaustion deepening after the long day. 

Harry managed to steady her once again by the elbow before guiding her away from the powerful wards. “Are you well enough to apparate?” he asked.

Hermione nodded. “If that is all, Mr Potter, I will return to my office,” she suggested, though realised her mistake too late.

The strain on her magic cancelled out the charm on her voice box as it was too magically straining, and her voice came out clear as her own. This time Harry’s hold tightened on her as he looked at her with those piercing green eyes full of surprise, immediately cognisant of the familiarity of that voice. 

“Hermione…” he whispered in absolute wonder before she felt his magic suddenly reaching out to her. 

She gasped as the magical energy danced along her skin and forced a response from her. Damn him for knowing her hood would never come off. The only way he could confirm it was her was to get a confession from her or identify her by her familiar magical essence.

Their magic was complimentary and many times on the run they shared their magical energy to aid in healing of battle wounds when potions and ointments were running low. And just as it always did, her magical core responded to his magical touch, and her brilliant essence wrapped around Harry’s magic comfortingly. 

“It is you…” Harry was still shocked at this discovery, which he would later blame for his lack of foresight.

It all happened in split second as Hermione pulled away from his arms and with a quick sidestep apparated away from the scene without another word. But now he knew. He knew that Hermione was not just any researcher working with the Ministry, she was an Unspeakable. He felt a surge of anger and resentment for this secret that she kept between them when always he had shared everything with her, and been as open as ever. It fizzled it out very quickly however when her realised she likely couldn’t have told him even if she wanted to. He bet they had pretty tight non-disclosure contracts down at the Department of Mysteries. That didn’t mean he wasn’t hurt or upset.

His younger self would have raged and apparated straight homeor to the DoM to demand answers. Long years of discipline however forced him to stamp down on his rashness, he knew he had a few tasks to complete before he could confront her, so he did what he needed to do first.

He apparated close to the Ministry and went down to his department to report to Robards and quickly write the case notes, so he could stay out of the office hopefully for the rest of the holidays. Once everything was submitted and his office was magically sealed, he used the large floo chamber in the Atrium to floo back home and cast a quick scan of the house.

It was empty, she hadn’t returned yet.

He took off his protective gear and poured himself a finger of single malt before settling at the kitchen table to wait for her return. If she thought they were not addressing this tonight, Hermione Jean Granger had another thing coming.

* * *

She landed in her office, freaking out of her mind. Harry knew. Despite how careful she had been, he figured it out. She paced the length of her office, knowing there was no escaping this situation. Harry was probably waiting at home for her and will be demanding an explanation. She needed to report to Hades.

It didn’t take her long to reach his office and enter once he bid her to come in.She was not surprised he was still here despite the clock showing it was nearly nine o’clock. 

“Any update on the case?” he asked, barely lifting his gaze from the paperwork before him.

“The case is solved. Head of House duty neglect in feeding blood wards, which then proceeded to corrupt additional layers of protection around the household. We resolved it and reset the wards. Mr Nott will get a ward specialist to do the full works. I will use it as a case study for my thesis,” she explained succinctly. 

Hades’ quill paused above the parchment before he set it back into the ink pot and lifted his head, judging by the slight incline of his hood. “Then the case is closed and you may return to your leave.Why is it then that you are so agitated?” he asked, her body language clearly giving her away. 

“Harry knows my identity,” she explained, trying to force herself to stand still and stop the need to pace. 

Hades contemplated her silently before nodding. “You knew there was a possibility he would find out who you are, today or another day when you consulted with him as the new lead for the hit wizards. And as you have been known to each other for so long, I presume he can be trusted with your identity?” he asked. 

Hermione knew she was being unreasonable but feared the confrontation. “Even if cross with me, he wouldn’t tell a soul,” she finally acknowledged. She knew Harry would never betray her.

“Then perhaps you should take with you one of the forms we reserve for circumstances such as these, and provide a briefing for Mr Potter to ensure his future cooperation?” he suggested and picked up his quill in clear dismissal.

“Yes, sir, thank you,” she sighed and headed out. She paused at the door and turned to face him once more. “Merry Christmas, Hades,” she offered before disappearing through the shimmering wall.

He watched her leave, his lips stretching into a smile beneath the heavy grey hood. He had a soft spot for Hermione Granger, his most talented researcher. She would one day discover something that would influence the magical world for centuries to come. He only hoped that Mr Potter would finally return the love she clearly had for him.

His teacup refilled with a snap of his fingers and he picked up the memo on top of his file. Perhaps they would manage to salvage more of the time sand from the re-opened chamber that was mostly destroyed during the Battle of the Department of Mysteries. If so, he just might get his protégé to work on it for her third mastery next year…

* * *

Hermione landed inside the hallway near silently and took a deep breath. She instinctively knew he would be waiting for her, most likely in the kitchen which was the place they always had their midnight hot cocoa and long conversations. She pushed the door open and paused when his piercing gaze met hers. 

They were still for a moment, regarding each other carefully. This was new territory for them. They always assumed they knew each other so well and now Harry was looking at her like he wasn’t sure whether her knew her at all.

“Drink?” he finally asked, lifting his glass in a vague salute.

She finally moved into the room and set her bag down before heading for the kettle. She had a pot of tea on in moments, looking at him in silent question. He knocked back the last of his whiskey and pushed the tumbler away with a nod, watching as she added another cup to the tray. It was good to know that some things would never change, like her need for a cup of tea at all hours of the day. It helped him calm his racing thoughts. It’s not like he didn’t know her, this was still his Hermione, the girl he saved from a troll, the woman who kept him sane in his darkest moments in the Forest of Dean. He realised with perfect clarity that he didn’t want to not know something that was such a big part of her life.

She carried over the tea tray to the head of the table to him, and sat down to his right, busying herself with the saucers, cups and adding sugar to his tea just as he liked it. Once the steaming tea was served and her hands could no longer stay occupied, she ventured a glance at him.

Harry gathered his Gryffindor courage and decided to just come straight to the point. “So, you’re an Unspeakable,” he stated, letting the words settle between them.

Hermione nodded after a moment. “Yes, I am. And before I say anything else, I must ask you to do something for me,” she reached into her bag and pulled out a scroll, handing it over to him and hoping to all the Gods he would not mind signing it.

He read it over and without hesitation summoned a quill and signed it, adding a drop of his blood to the bottom to seal the agreement to keep her secret. The scroll shone brightly to confirm its validity and rolled up neatly for Hermione to file. She put it back in her bag and sighed in relief.“I’m sorry, I wish I could have told you but I wasn’t able to until today, now that we are working together,” she explained.

“How long have you been working there?” Harry asked as he sipped his tea. 

“Two and a half years. I was recruited by Hades at Hogwarts just after I finished my N.E.W.T.s,” she admitted. 

Harry took a deep breath, processing the fact that he had no idea of his best friend’s work for the better part of their post-war life. “You certainly make a good Unspeakable,” he tried to lighten the mood. “Why couldn’t you tell me before?” he asked.

“Because you can’t get special permission to brief anyone about our work, or even being part of the department unless specific conditions are met. Like working with law enforcement or medical staff and they accidentally learn your identity or need to know information to treat me. Or in some cases it is possible to sign the special non-disclosure for a spouse, if my work were to have an impact on them or put them in danger. And even though you’re the most important person to me in the world, I wasn’t able to get the permission until now, until this case,” she sighed. It really has been so hard not to tell him about the wonderful things she was learning and researching, and be more open about the work that brings her so much joy. 

Despite chastising himself mentally for being an oblivious arse, Harry did notice just how much it did bother her. “I’m not cross with you. I’m just surprised I guess… A part of me wishes I had known sooner, you know,” he acknowledged and reached for her hand, squeezing it gently.

She returned the gesture, holding onto his hand tightly as she offered him a wobbly smile. “I just wish I was able to tell you from the start, and every time we talked at night when we can’t sleep. I hope it’ll be much better now. I’ll support you in your work with my research,” she offered gently, knowing he had difficult adjustment months ahead.

Harry’s hold on her hand tightened as he tried to swallow a swell of emotions. “I think I’d like that. Especially now that I’ll be leading the team. Oh Merlin, Rhys… I don’t know how I’ll be able to look Beryl in the eye. And the team…” his shoulders shook as he finally allowed himself to grieve for his mentor.

Hermione pulled her chair closer and pulled him into her arms, offering the silent comfort that she could to tide him through. He didn’t often allowed himself this freedom of feeling, but knew hw oddly be safe with Hermione. She was there through his post-war grieving, his grief for the loss of his childhood family, and for the man he discovered in his godfather when he was redecorating this house. Every time she listened and held him, and it always helped him curb in the despair overwhelming his heart. Rhys was a sturdy man in his fifties, an honourable Auror who led the assault on Voldemort’s ministry before the Final Battle. He was brave, hardened man with the kindest heart that beat for his sweet wife. Beryl would occasionally come to the department to bring him some lunch and share her baking with his hit wizard team mates, her lemon shortbread always a favourite. But what Harry always noticed when she visited was the love and understanding they shared when they looked at each other and parted ways for the day. They were the world to each other, true partners. The thought of Beryl, alone and despondent, made his throat tighten with grief.

By the time he managed to calm his sorrow somewhat, it was nearly midnight and Hermione coaxed him to finish his tea and head upstairs. They each turned to their side of the hallway and changed into their pyjamas before meeting in the bathroom to brush their teeth. Hermione pulled her curls into a loose plait and squeezed some of her lotion into her palm while he finished up. Harry seemed hesitant to part ways, but shouldn’t have worried as Hermione had no intention to leave him alone tonight.

She led the way to his bedroom, rubbing the last of her lotion into her forearms before getting into the large kingsized bed that Harry preferred these days. Hermione rarely ever saw his bedroom but thought he would be more comfortable in his own room than hers. She laid down and patted the space beside her encouragingly. He seemed relieved as he climbed in and turned to settle on his side, feeling her press against the length of his back and hold him close. Just as she did when they faced freezing cold nights in the Forest of Dean and the weight of the horcrux was nearly unbearable some days. Comforted by her presence and exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster of the day, Harry managed to drift off soon afterwards. Hermione listened to his breathing deepen, snuggling into the sheets and his warmth a bit more. 

Today she had travelled from Scandinavia to Britain, solved a case that would ensure her mastery and came out as Unspeakable to her best friend. And yet her mind was somewhat at peace. She breathed in the comforting smell of vetiver and his clean skin, and dozed off as well.

**31st December 2001**

“There you go, Teddybear,” she smiled and settled the little boy into his bed, the nursery that was once hastily set up for Teddy to visit as a baby was now a small boy’s room with a large painting of the Forbidden forest on two of the walls, dragon flying around and little stars all over his ceiling. Hermione switched off the light and the stars came to life, the muggle fluorescent invention the boy’s favourite thing to look at while he had his bedtime story.

“Tell me story, Hermimi?” he asked, the beautiful curls atop his head turning a lovely light shade of pink in contentment.

“How could I not? Tonight is the turn for the Moony story,” she smiled and covered him up with his favourite dinosaur blanket as he beamed at her in excitement.

The story of Moony the Marauder was his favourite, and Harry and Hermione told it every time he stayed over with them. 

“Once upon a time, the moon looked on the beautiful world beneath it and frowned when it heard the lonely cry of a small grey wolf. The wolf loved the moon and feared her at the same time, for she was the one who made the wolf come out of the chest of the man…” she began the tale and watched as his excitement morphed into a small contented smile, his eyelids drooping slowly until they closed altogether and he fell asleep.

She made sure her was comfortable and cast the alarm charms on the room to let them know if he woke up before gently closing the door and making her way down the stairs. She grinned when she heard the music coming from the living room, chuckling at the display of twinkling lights, half-drank bottle of bubbly in the bucket, and Harry messing around with the old record collection. 

He looked a sight with his wild hair holding a streak of dust from the music shelf, and his round glasses sliding down his nose as he tried to figure out how to work the blasted record player. And yet Hermione couldn’t help the swell of affection for the man who would always be dearest to her. The past week was everything she thought it would be and so much more. 

On Christmas day, they woke up late, had some tea in bed and actually discussed how they wanted to spend this Christmas. The previous years have been spent without much tradition, or in Harry’s case, accommodating someone else’s traditions. They decided that this year they would make their own. They apparated to Godric’s Hollow around lunch time, visited with his parents and laid down a lovely wreath on their graves. Harry was still a bit melancholy, so they got home and cooked together before watching one of the Christmas films on telly and retiring to bed. Without discussing it beforehand, Hermione simply joined Harry like she had the previous night, glad he found the comfort he needed in her presence as they rested. 

Boxing day was great fun as they visited Andromeda and Teddy for the afternoon. The boy of three and a half years was excited to see his godfather and ‘Hermimi’ who always liked to play with him. Seeing how tired Andromeda was, the Christmas period always taking a toll on the aged witch, Hermione suggested she spends a few days with Poppy, the retired school nurse a dear friend to Andromeda. A couple of floo calls later to make arrangements, they agreed to take Teddy until after the new year to give her a week of rest at least. Teddy was more than happy to go with them, knowing he would be able to play many games!

And so they set a new tradition this Christmas, spending it mostly in with games, good cooking and story time in between a few chilly walks in the park and trips to the shop to get some more provisions and mince pies. Each day was a new adventure with Teddy, and it seems the Black family residence was coming alive with his joyful presence. Each night they slept in Harry’s room by silent agreement, keeping the loneliness from each other’s dreams and the happiness of each other’s company just a bit longer. Hermione wasn’t sure what it meant for their friendship but she was soaking up the affection every moment she got.

“Sounds like I should put on my flapper dress and dance till I drop,” she grinned as she leaned on the door frame, the clearly 20s sound energetic and fun. 

“It’s called…Let’s Misbehave,” Harry waggled his brows comically and made his awkward dance-shuffle around the room until he reached her and pulled her into a spin while she laughed at his silliness.

“You’ll…ahaha….give me a stitch…” she shimmied with him and evaded the little side table by barely an inch as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her bum away from it. 

She allowed herself to be pulled around the room in a parody of Charleston, both of them laughing their way through it. The song finished and after a moment of silence, a mellow tune could be heard from the old record player, shifting the mood in the room somewhat.

His arms around her waist tightened and he pulled her closer, just as he did that night in the tent. That was the last time they had danced together, in the cold of the winter, both of them exhausted, scared and lonely. This time as she leaned her head against his chest and breathed him in, she could tell he was just as contented as she was. His fingers flexed on her back, her thin jumper carrying the warmth of his touch to her skin. They swayed slowly into the soothing melody, her fingers subconsciously toying with the wild locks of hair at the nape of his neck. 

As the song was coming to a close, she pulled back, looking into those vibrant green eyes that held such a soft expression she didn’t want to let go. The last time they stood together like this, she pulled away. Because he had a future with Ginny. Because she thought she had a future with Ron. Because she knew that in that moment in time, during a war that could see them both die, she couldn’t allow them to be anything but dearest friends. 

Now as she stood in his arms, Hermione knew she should pull away again but it was proving so very difficult to take that step away from him and out of his arms. As if sensing her thoughts of escape, Harry’s hold on her tightened and they were pulled just that bit closer. It was an accident, she was surprised by the gesture and lifted her head, their lips brushing lightly without intention as she tried to look up at him. 

They looked at each other for a long, silent heartbeat before his hot, dry lips were claiming hers in a searing kiss. Hermione held onto him tightly, returning every hot kiss hungrily. She couldn’t however ignore the small voice of reason whispering to her. 

“Wait wait wait-“ she tried to pull away, barely a breath of space between.

“Don’t-“ he leaned his forehead against hers as they tried to catch their breath. “I know it wasn’t our time in that tent, you were meant to pull away then. But don’t-,” he swallowed the panic rising in his chest at her rejection, “don’t pull away this time,” he almost pleaded. 

The love she saw in his eyes made her breath hitch. Could this be? She knew they were growing closer with each passing day this yuletide but could he really love her this way?

“What about…Ginny…and…and the Weasleys….they will never take you back if we do this. Are you sure?” She asked, trying make sure he knew the implications of his choice. 

Harry looked at the woman before him, his dearest friend, the one person who always stood by him, supported him, loved him and never judged him. Her heart was the size of England and he almost felt unworthy. “Do you want to….do you want me?” He asked, not sure what he would do if she rejected him.

Hermione reached up to cup his stubbly cheek asnodded. “I just don’t want you tolose everyone because of me,” she admitted.

Harry’s arms tightened around her to keep her close. “I’ve made my choices, and this is the best out of them all,” he whispered before his lips were once again on her. 

Merlin, he had been so blinded by his wish for a family that he never saw she was his family more than anyone else in his life. He knew there was always a part of him that relished in her closeness and comfort, but it was over the past week that he realised just much he needed her, wanted her company, and how much the love he had for her changed from the love of a best friend during their time on the run. Her laugh made something inside his chest throb pleasantly, and he found her most beautiful first thing in the morning when her wild curls were an absolute riot and there was no make up on her face. Her eyes were so expressive, the little freckles on her nose were the sweetest thing, and the unself-conscious way she moved around the kitchen to get some tea going and warm up in her plaid pyjamas was something he realised he wanted to see every day. More than that, he wanted to warm her up in his arms while waiting for the kettle to boil. It was that realisation a couple of days ago that pushed him to make a move and hope she wouldn’t reject him.

The way her back arched to press their bodes closer, and her lips opened to his plundering need chased his doubts away. Needing to feel her warm, soft skin, his fingers slid under her jumper and he groaned softly into their kiss at the feel of her heated body.

“Can I..” He wanted to ask if he could take them up to bed but didn’t want to presume.

She solved his dilemma by holding onto him tightly and apparating them straight into his bedroom. “I have the alarm spell on Teddy’s room,” she offered, as he cast the one-way silencing charms around the room to keep the little boy from overhearing them.

Harry pulled off this jumper, making his hair sizzle with static, an amused chuckle sounding from Hermione who had the same issue with hers. She quickly pushed the hair back and into a messy bun at the top of her head, grinning as Harry’s gaze followed the jiggle of her breasts in the simple cotton bra she had put on that morning.

“Well? I’m not going to break or melt, you know-“ she groaned as he stepped closer and pulled her up into his arms only to topple her onto the bed with a breathy chuckle. “Not fair,” she tutted but grinned at the cheeky glint in his eyes as he crawled up over her body and attacked a peaked nipple straining the white cotton fabric of her bra. Her hand tightened its grip on his hair when he nipped the tender flesh, working his hand beneath her to release the clasp preventing him access. She quickly shimmied out of the bra once he unclasped it, and allowed herself to just let go and enjoy the pleasure of his lips and tongue as he travelled a path up her sensitive neck to claim her lips once more.

Gods, this was sweet torture. It has been months since she took a lover during one of her research trips and could feel her muscles clenching hungrily to be filled, the cotton of her panties soaking. Harry’s hands were callused from his days of quidditch and his current work and gym regiment, and their roughened touch light up all her nerve endings in delight. She loved the way they felt on her hips, pulled her closer to him as he pushed his way between her thighs and rubbed their hips together. She bit her lip to stem the expletives that threatened to spill from her tongue at the feel of the hard seam of her jeans pressing against her swollen clit. 

“Off….get the rest of it off,” she urged, her hands reaching down impatiently for his belt, managing to slip the top button open to give her access inside. She palmed him through the thin shorts and hummed in delight at the feel of the steely hardness that she couldn’t wait to feel.

Harry groaned and his head dropped onto her shoulder. “Hermi-hah..” He pulled his hips back from her touch and nipped her breast in retaliation for the teasing.“It’s…been a while…” he warned, knowing he wasn’t going to last too long this time round. 

Hermione had in her impatience started working on her own jeans and nodded. “Me too. Next time we take it slower. Right now I just need to feel you…” she admitted, her eyes glistening like dark jewels with need as she looked at him with a plea on her lips. 

Harry kicked off his jeans and pants in one impatiently, as he hooked his fingers into her jeans and knickers both. “Up,” he motioned for her lift her bum before tugging on the material to get if off. “You’re so beautiful…” he caressed the thick of her thigh as he crawled back over her and kissed her hungrily. “We’re safe?” he asked, managing to pull away from her delicious lips for just a moment to check.

A soft whine rose in Hermione’s throat when he pulled away. She nodded frantically as she wrapped her legs around him and flexed her hips up until they were aligned. “Now Harry…I need you- YES, fuck,” she groaned as he pushed inside her without further ado, the head of his length pressing nearly all the way to her cervix. 

Harry’s shoulders tensed and trembled as he finally joined their bodies and felt how warm and ready she was for him. Her muscles were clenching around him hungrily and he was gone. His hand reached up for her hair that managed to escape from the hair tie and held onto the heavy curls tightly as his hips pulled back and thrust back in firmly. 

Her hands scrambled on his slick shoulders to find purchase, her nails digging into his muscles at a particularly delicious thrust that rubbed against her clit as well. Harry reached down and pulled one of her knees up against his chest, opening her up even more as he trust deeply within her, his need driving him inside her harder.

Her whimper at the new angle was followed by a choked cry of pleasure as their hips continued to meet and his upward strokes rubbed her just the right way. “That’s…there….right there….uh…Harry…” she panted, trying to express just how good he felt as the coil in her belly tightened.

“So..fucking..perfect..” he groaned against the line of her jaw, punctuating each word with a thrust as he nipped at the milky flesh of her neck before him.

Hermione reached down and pulled him up for a frantic, messy kiss as she felt the pleasure pulse inside her. “I’m so close…” she panted, her hips canting up to meet his thrusts in her need to come. 

Harry tugged on her curls as he thrust deep inside her, hips lips latching onto her clavicle as he felt his own need rise. She gasped at the harsh bite on her skin, and her back arched in pleasure as he hit a deep spot inside her firmly, pushing her over the edge with the final thrust. With a strangled cry, her body grew taut beneath him with the intensity before her legs quaked from the pleasure. 

Harry stood no chance against the muscles that pulsed around him harshly, drawing his own pleasure over the peak. He thrust thrice more inside her as he came with a low groan, his hips rubbing against hers to prolong their pleasure. She gasped at the feel of him coming inside her and held onto his trembling form, watching the frown between his eyes smooth out once the pleasure subsided.

She gently separated their bodies and pulled him down into her arms to catch his breath, one of her legs still wrapped around him to hold them close. A fond smile stretched her lips when she felt him nuzzle into one of her breasts as he rested. 

As his breathing evened out, Harry allowed himself to bask in the pleasure. He had wanted to make love to her properly but it seemed their need got the best of them this time. The night was yet young, and he was determined that he’d worship this woman as she deserved before they took their rest. Rolling them to the side so he wouldn’t crush her, he pulled the brunette beauty in for a slow kiss, enjoying the feel of her soft body pressed against him, and the lovely flush of pleasure across her chest and cheeks as their bodies cooled. They were so lost in exploring each other that they didn’t even notice the clock nearing midnight.

* * *

“Uncle Harry?” Teddy’s sad voice could be heard just outside the door, rousing them from their nap.

They finally cleaned up and went to sleep around four o’clock in the morning, exhausted in the best of ways and closer than they have ever been before. Hermione was relishing the feel of his arms around her when the hesitant voice roused them from the light sleep.

“Harry?” she asked, turning her head to look at him. He was already up and frowning before realising why Teddy couldn’t come in - the locking and silencing charms.

They both sat up and Hermione made sure that all their clothes from last night were in the washing basket and they were semi-presentable before nodding to Harry to go ahead. He quickly took the enchantments down and opened the door, pulling the nearly four year old up into his arms. “Morning Teddy, what’s the matter?” He asked, seeing the little boy was close to crying.

His hair a sad black mop as he reached to hold onto Harry’s neck, Teddy took comfort from his uncle. “Hermimi was not in the kitchen and I can’t find her,” he admitted, his bottom lip trembling slightly when he didn’t see either of them upon waking up as he usually did.

“That’s because Hermimi came to wake me up first so we can make you some breakfast, see?” he smiled, stepping back into the room where Hermione was still sitting under the duvet, glad they had the foresight this morning to put on their pyjamas before getting to bed. 

“There’s my Teddybear,” she smiled warmly. “Want to get some fruity tea and porridge with nanas?” she asked, knowing Teddy was finding bananas irresistible at the moment. 

He however shook his head and reached his arms for her. Harry closed the door and returned to bed, letting Teddy climb under the duvet like a little spider monkey and snuggle up between them. Hermione carded her fingers through him once again teal locks fondly.

“Is this better? Did you sleep well?” she asked. 

He nodded and let himself be snuggled by his uncle Harry and his Hermimi. “Best Kistmas ever,” he grinned toothily.

Hermione looked at the man across from her and had to agree. Who knew what their future would bring, but this Christmas has been magical despite the changes in their lives ahead of them. She was already looking forward to what 2002 would bring, by his side. 

Fin.


End file.
